


You Don't Dance, But I Do.

by BatBlade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dancing Stiles, F/M, Gen, Happy Story, M/M, Oblivious Pack, Teacher Stiles, best friend scott, kira is awesome, kira is stiles platonic soulmate, stiles is a really good dancer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:51:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2575478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatBlade/pseuds/BatBlade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles goes back to his old dance studio and gets hired as a dance instructor. He ends up teaching eleven- and twelve-year-olds and even participates in their middle school talent show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going Back

It’s not a secret that Stiles is a dancer.

 

Okay maybe it is. It doesn’t help that all his friends see him as graceless, clumsy and uncoordinated. Yes, he’s all that. But when he dances? He’s the most motherfucking graceful thing anyone’s ever seen. And he _knows_ it.

 

Stiles has been dancing since he was four years old. He’d been a tiny tot of four when his mom made him watch Singin’ In The Rain. She’d looked at Gene Kelly tap dancing on the screen, then at Stiles, then at Gene Kelly, again at Stiles. And she had declared,”Let’s get you in that tap-dancing class, sweetie.”

 

Stiles _abhorred_ it. He couldn’t concentrate with all that tapping and moving. He refused to listen to the tap-dance teacher and instead stood on his own in the corner of the children’s dance studio, trying out the moves he’d seen the older, cooler kids doing in the class next door. ‘Hip hop’ they called it. He was hooked. The tap-dance teacher recommended he be put in that class instead. And his mom had sighed and smiled at him. He went for lessons the next week.

 

Stiles had taken up different styles of dance as he grew older; ballroom, street, break dance, jazz. He’d even gotten into choreography. The studio, which was in the town a couple miles away from Beacon Hills, had even offered him a job as a dance instructor there.

 

He’d gotten that offer when he was sixteen. He turned it down for obvious reasons. (Werewolves, seriously?!) But he was in his senior year now, and things in Beacon Hills had toned down a lot. Scott led the pack now, consisting of Stiles, Kira, Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Erica, Boyd and… Derek. Derek had become, well, _nicer_. Stiles guessed it was because Scott and Derek had finally resolved their weird issues and Kate, Peter and Gerard were _finally_ dead. Derek seemed content now, and less paranoid. Stiles liked that look on him. They had unknowingly developed a friendship, and it was pretty solid.

 

 _Anyway_ , things had calmed down in Beacon Hills, and Stiles eventually ventured back into his old dance school. He’d been absent for two years and he didn’t expect a lot of people would remember him. He’d only gone back to reminisce, maybe observe the younger kids. That plan was shot down real quick.

 

Stiles walked through the door of the school, turning his head this way and that, looking around at the changes he missed out on the last two years. He was turning a circle when an impatient cough sounded and he flailed a little. Okay, a lot. He was jumpy! That happened when you faced two years of supernatural creatures trying to kill you everyday.

 

He spun around to see a tall woman with greying hair tied in a tight bun atop her head. She was wearing a soft grey cardigan over a black leotard and had a long semi-transparent skirt on. She wore a pair of black ballet slippers on her feet and was staring at him sternly.

 

“Excuse me young man, can I help you?”

 

Stiles stared at her familiar form a moment and then his eyes widened a little, he smiled at the gracefully ageing woman.

 

“Hello Madame Cecelia.”

 

The head teacher of the dance studio stared at him confused, she walked over and plucked at his plaid overshirt. She looked up and smiled at him in recognition.

 

“Stiles Stilinski. You’ve grown my boy. How’s your father?”

 

“He’s good. Still Sheriffin.”

 

“Ah. Busy man. All those murders two years back. Terrible. I suppose that’s why you haven’t come back in a while.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well Mr Stilinski, I hope you still dance? You have a gift for it, you shouldn’t abandon it anytime soon.”

 

“I haven’t really had the time, Madame Cecelia.” Stiles grins sheepishly at her.

 

She titters at him, shaking her head. “You can never forget how to dance. Come.”

 

With that Madame Cecelia walks off, and Stiles, curious, follows her to a dance studio. He remembers this studio- it’s where he learned hip hop when he was a kid. She enters the studio and beckons him inside.

 

The studio is filled with young girls and boys around the age of fourteen. There’s a hip woman in her twenties standing at the front directing the class in hip hop moves. He recognizes some of the moves with surprise. He’d choreographed this dance when he was twelve and performing a solo act for the studio’s showcase night.

 

The hip hop teacher, Marianne, sees the headteacher and Stiles and she squints at them a moment before squealing and pushing past the kids to hug Stiles.

 

“Oh my gosh! Squirt? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

 

“Mari! You teach here now?”

 

“Yeah, Madame Cecelia offered me a job a year back.”

Madame Cecelia interjects, amused, “Mari, I was hoping Mr stilinski could help you with today’s lesson?”

 

Stiles looks at the ballet teacher in confusion,“What?”

 

Madame Cecelia nods her head, ”I’d like to see if you’re as good as you were two years ago.”

 

Mari squeals excitedly and drags Stiles to the front of the class. The kids are looking at Stiles like he’s a monkey about to do the jive. Sheesh, when did kids get so judgemental? Mari pushes him towards one side and gestures at his everything. She tells him, “Off. You can’t dance like that. Come on. Off.”

 

Stiles sighs and drops his bag to the floor. The eighteen-year-old removes his plaid shirt, leaving him in his ‘studmuffin’ graphic tee. He swears he hears snorts from the kids. He pulls his shirt over his head and throws it in a corner, leaving him in a white tank top. He walks back over to Mari whose eyes bug out. He looks down at himself when he hears giggles from the kids. What? He doesn’t look that bad. Sure he’s a little skinny, but he’s put on more muscle the last two years. It’s the running for your life thing.

 

“Woah Stiles! You look hot! Ain’t that right kids?”

 

The girls break out in giggles, while the boys look away and cast glances. Madame Cecelia shakes her head and gestures at Mari to get on with the lesson. Stiles tries to will his blush away. Mari looks at him expectantly.

 

“You remember these moves right? You did it a few years back. We’ve been using it for practice ‘cause it’s really good choreo.”

 

“Let’s do this.”

 

The kids stand back around the room at Mari’s instruction. She and Stiles move to the vacated space in front of the mirror and Mari nods her head at the kid near the stereo. The opening stanzas of Chris Brown’s ‘I Should Have Kissed You’ plays.

 

Stiles and Mari bring their arms up and carry out a flurry of movements, arching their bodies and sliding across the floor in identical movements. Stiles’ body is like a wave, flexible and smooth, carrying out the steps he carefully choreographed when he was twelve years old. He adopts different poses, lowering himself and pushing himself back up, tantalizingly trailing his shoe tip along the wooden floor. Stiles brings his arms in rigid motions around his head, sliding across the floor, his head turning right and left, up and down as he dances. He closes his eyes and just _moves_.

 

As the chorus starts, Mari sees Stiles and backs off silently, leaving him to his own space. Everyone in the studio watches, mesmerised as Stiles executes a few fast steps, going faster, slowing down, tensing up, then loose-limbed, making his way around the floor. He makes the dance seem powerful, restrained, but so, so _right_ for the soft croon from the stereo. He pulls his arm back, stretching like he’s aiming a bow and arrow. He steps back as he does this, then brings his feet and hands together. His hands go to grip his hair, grown out, longer. He bends over in what seems like agony, dragging his hands through his hair, pulling it, showing the frustration the song describes. He whips back up again, opening his eyes. He realises he’s dancing alone. Cecelia, Mari and the kids are all watching in awe, and he stumbles out of his stance, letting the rest of the song play on.

 

Mari, Cecelia and the kids all applaud and cheer, to Stiles’ embarrassment. Mari grabs his arms and jumps up and down.

 

“THAT WAS _AMAZING_! You still got it Squirt! That was great!” She clutches his hands in her own and tugs him in for a hug. Stiles laughs and returns it. He’d danced again, after all this time. He’s never been happier.

 

Madame Cecelia comes over as Mari pushes Stiles away and takes control of the lesson, pointing out how Stiles moved and getting everyone back to practice. Stiles picks up all his stuff and hangs his t-shirt over his shoulder since he’s sweating and doesn’t want it to smell just yet. He moves over to Madame Cecelia and she claps him proudly on his arm.

 

“That was magnificent.”

 

“Thanks Madame Cecelia.”

 

“So, you’ve got the teaching job if you want it.”

 

“What?”

 

“The teaching job. Isn’t that what you came here for?”

 

Stiles grins at her sheepishly,“No, actually. But I don’t mind taking it.”

 

Cecelia beams at him and guides him back to the front desk. She leads him towards her office and gestures to a chair in front of the desk. He sits down as Cecelia sits at her computer and types a few things, analysing.

 

“Ah. Here. We’ve got a class of ten and eleven year olds. They’re from the local middle school. You wouldn’t know them. They’re not regulars here, about ten of them in total. Looking for a teacher who can help with choreography.”

 

“You want me to choreograph something and teach it? Nothing wrong with choreo, but, um, I’m pretty young looking. You think they’ll listen to 147 pounds of pale teenager?”

 

“It’ll be fine. Just impress them! And if they’re brats… you tell me. I’ll deal with them.”

 

“...Alright. I’ll do it.”

 

“Great! Come in this friday.”

 


	2. Meeting The Girls

Stiles was late for his first class.

 

Well he would be if he didn't get there in the next thirty seconds. He bounds out of his battered old jeep and into the building. He makes for studio Three, where his new students were.

  
  
Oh geez, he would be teaching kids how to dance. Why had he taken this job? Teaching was way different from just doing. Oh man he was gonna mess up so badly.

  
  
He bursts into the studio and flails at the sight of ten girls sitting on the floor in a circle. They all look up at glare at him. One girl, who appeared to be the leader of this group, stands up and crosses her arms. She glares at him.

  
  
"You've got the wrong room."

  
  
Stiles is confused by her hostility, "Um. No..? I'm _pretty sure_ you're my 3 o'clock class. Ten of you, from the local middle school, want help from a choreographer?"

  
  
The girls start tittering at each other and the leader looks surprised, "Wait, _you're_ the teacher? You don't even look like a dancer."

  
  
Stiles rolls his eyes and makes his way to the front of the room. He dumps his stuff and turned around. Yup, there were the judgy eyes. The leader speaks again, her previous hostility returning, "Can we swap you with a _**female**_ choreographer?"

  
  
Several girls nod, while some look unsure at their leaders command. One of them directs an incredulous look at the leader. "C'mon Cheryl, at least see what he can do."

  
  
Cheryl whips around to stare at the girl, "He's a _boy_ , Abby! We're supposed to show Matthew and Jake girls can dance, and when they see a boy helped us?"

  
  
Stiles holds his hands up placatingly, "Woah, woah, hang on, I don't follow?"

  
  
The girl who defended Stiles, Abby, explains in an annoyed tone, "We want to compete in talent night but the guys in our class don't think we can do it because we're girls. So we decided to do a girls only dance. We didn't expect our teacher to be a guy."

  
  
Another girl continued, "So if a guy helped us choreograph our dance, it wouldn't really count as an all-girl effort."

  
  
Stiles frowns at the boys' attitude. Lydia, Allison, Kira and Mrs McCall had all taught him girls were powerful, deadly, beautiful creatures.

 

"Well, you can choreograph most of the steps and I'll just help a little. You don't have to acknowledge me as your instructor. And I can help you choreograph something that'll really prove your point. I agree, girls rock. And uh the acknowledge thing? Only for this. Don't do it in your citations or research or uh... yeah." Stiles finishes lamely.

  
  
More of the girls seemed okay with this, though Cheryl still wanted a female choreographer. She smirks at Stiles, challenging the older boy, "Dance something for us. Then we'll see if we still want you."

  
  
"Sure."

  
  
"We pick the song. You freestyle. Really good teachers know how to do that, right?" Cheryl mocked.

  
  
Was it bad that Stiles disliked this eleven year old a little?

  
  
"Okay. Shoot."

  
  
The girls broke up the circle and moved to stand at the sides. Cheryl plugged her phone into the stereo and thought. She smiled triumphantly and typed a few things into the screen. The musical note of pianos and a beat echoed through the studio. The girls were all whispering. This was a really difficult song to dance to!

  
  
Stiles shrugged as Beyoncé's Halo played. If the girls wanted to be feminine, he'll give them feminine. As Beyoncé's soulful voice sang, Stiles turned and slid, tensing up in various poses when the drums hit. He stomps his feet in wide circles, jerking his knees up and down. He splays a hand on his chest and pushes his chest in, pulls it out again. He jumps off the ground, one knee close to his chest and turns 360 degrees in midair, landing lightly.

 

He twirls in circles, angling his face upward, bringing strong arms up in a graceful arch. He rolls his body slowly, making the movement seem longer, powerful and controlled. He extends his arms and slides to the floor, pushing himself back up effortlessly. A few jumps and more twirls, which the girls really seem to love. He arches backwards, arms coming down behind him.

 

Stiles whips up and begins a series of complicated stepping, then spins. Slowly, he leans back onto the floor, does a backward tumble and finishes by exiting the roll on one hand, holding his entire weight up, his legs angled such that one was straight up and the other bent so that his knee aligned with his face. He drops down to his feet again, panting. Beyoncé had just finished the chorus.

  
  
All the girls clap. Cheryl was furious. The girls praise him. They start chattering to him about ideas they had for their dance.

  
  
"Oh, teach us how to do that roll handstand thing! That was awesome!"

  
  
"I loved the twirls. Can we use them in our choreo?"

  
  
"It looked so feminine! I thought you were gonna go all moody like guys usually would but you didn't! In fact, I'm pretty sure both guys and girls could make it look great!"

 

Stiles settles them down and tells them to discuss their ideas and tell him about it later. He goes to the front of the studio and peels off his sweaty over shirt. He'd forgotten to take it off earlier. Stiles had just gotten out of his tee-shirt when he'd realised the studio was really quiet. He turns around curiously to find all the girls staring at him. Uhm....

  
  
"Let's keep him." "Yep." "Agreed."

  
Chorus of agreement sounded. Stiles buries his face in his shirt, blushing. He's gonna get in trouble for this.

  
Abby speaks up, "Hey uh, we still don't know your name teach."

  
  
"Stiles."

  
  
Cheryl pipes up, "What kind of name is Stiles?"

  
  
Stiles sighs, "It's a nickname. My real name is grotesque. It's in polish and has W's and Z's in it. No one can pronounce it."

  
  
He turns back to the girls and sits down with them. The girls smile at him. He smiles back confused.

  
  
"How about we do introductions, go round the circle?"

  
Cheryl snorts, "That's so childish."

  
  
Stiles ignores her and smiles at the other girls, "It's the best way to get to know each other. Improves teamwork too."

  
Abby goes first, "Hi, I'm Abby. I'm eleven years old."

  
  
"Clarissa, ten."

  
  
"I'm Jeslyn."

  
  
"Laura. Eleven." Stiles winces a little though nobody notices.

  
  
"Evanna!"

  
  
"Mina. I'm ten."

  
  
"Hi! I'm Chloe!"

  
  
"I'm Sara. Without the 'h'."

  
  
"Lilly, I'm eleven."

  
"Alright, I'm Stiles, and I'm eighteen."

  
  
Sweet little Mina asks, "Eighteen? You're so young! And you're a teacher? You must be really good!"

  
  
"Thank you."

  
  
Cheryl inspects her nails and comments nastily, "He's probably new. Don't expect too much."

  
  
Stiles ignores her. He's been through hell and back, he's not affected by her taunts. Though he will admit he doesn't like her very much.

  
  
"Alright, so what songs do you have in mind?"

  
  
"Have you heard the song 'Break Free'? We wanna do that song."

  
  
Stiles inquires, "Is it the whole song?"

  
  
Clarissa answers, "No, the talent show only gives everyone a minute to do whatever they're doing. Is that okay?"

  
  
"Yeah! That's great! When's the show?"

  
  
"Next month. We wanna get ready early."

  
  
"Awesome. So let's begin."

  
  
He directs them all in front of the mirror. Then Stiles shows them what he thinks will look good. The girls nod and try out the moves, Stiles correcting their movements and calling out praises.

  
  
Mari walks past studio three. She heard Stiles was teaching a class there. As she stands at the one way window, she coos at the adorable sight. Stiles is helping little Mina, the smallest girl in the group try and spin in a circle without stumbling. Stiles is easily twice Mina's height and he looks so excited when Mina finally gets the spin right. He extends his hand for a high-five which Mina keenly returns. Stiles returns to the front of the class and the girls go back into position. He counts down, muffled through the glass. He and the girls start their movements.

  
  
Strong and sharp, Stiles and the girls move their forearms to their faces.

  
  
"Out-in, snap-snap-back, legs in, and elbows up snap-snap. Swing, swing clap-stomp. That's great girls! Awesome! Alright keep your elbows a little more pointed. Imagine it okay? You got so much girl power that you can only show a little at a time for fear of blowing the minds of everyone here. So you gotta reign it in, like this, but make sure you look strong. Show them they ain't seen nothing yet!"

  
  
Stiles demonstrates what he means, bringing his elbows up again. The girls follow, and Stiles corrects positions and encourages them.

  
  
Mari feels a presence next to her, she looks to her right to see Madame Cecelia also watching the class. She turns back and comments, "I'm glad he came back. He's a really good dancer and a really good teacher."

  
  
Madame Cecelia nods, "Yes, he's doing surprisingly well. Natural even. Who knew?"

  
  
The two dancers watch Stiles as he tries to get Cheryl to do a thing but she refuses. He reasons with her but she doesn't want to do it. He sighs and walks away, asking Mina to help her. Cheryl reluctantly changes her stance and Stiles looks approvingly at Mina.

  
  
It's nearing five o'clock and Stiles has to wrap up the session. "Alright, ladies. Times almost up. Anyone have anything to say? Or to suggest to improve our performance?"

  
  
Lilly raises her hand and Stiles nods at her, "Well. Uh I was wondering if we could practise dancing in heels. Cuz heels are really girly stuff right? And boys can't really dance in heels. So we'd rub it in their faces a little more."

  
  
The girls look to Stiles. He shakes his head and gestures to them.

  
  
"Hey, it's your decision."

  
  
They think about it and then nod.

  
  
"Yeah, that's a good idea."

  
  
"Let's do it."

  
  
Stiles claps his hands, "I'm not sure how I can help you with this, but I'll try to help you the best I can."

  
  
A resounding chorus of "Thanks Stiles!"

  
  
"Okay! Times up, I'll see you girls Monday afternoon! You should bring your heels then. Standardize what kind you're going to wear, I suggest character heels! We don't want anyone tripping and spraining an ankle!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just made up the dance for Halo and tried to describe it. No dancing actually occurred in the making of this fic. 
> 
> No offense to any Cheryl's out there. It's just that in my life I have encountered so many mean Cheryl's that I felt it the most suitable for this particular eleven year old.
> 
> I think this chapter seemed way too short. Sorry 'bout that.
> 
> Thank you for reading! (((((((((((((((:


	3. Kira Comes To Visit

Scott, Stiles and Kira walked out of the school doors, chattering about nothing in particular. Scott glances at his wristwatch and yelps.

“Sorry Kira! I’ve gotta go! Deaton needs me to help him with an operation for Mr Winkles in 30 minutes, and it’ll take me at least 25 to get there. Stiles, you think you can give Kira a ride home and to pack meeting tonight?”

Stiles and Kira have yet to get a word in when Scott runs off to his green dirt bike and peels out of the parking lot. Stiles and Kira share a ’what can you do shrug?’ before Stiles walks Kira over to the Jeep.

As Stiles unlocks the Jeep and straps in, he asks distractedly, "Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Nope, I was planning to laze around at home.”

Stiles grins at her, "Wanna come to Hillside with me? We could grab a bite and head to my class. You can watch if you want.” Kira nods enthusiastically.

Stiles pulls out of the school lot, and the Jeep bumbles down the road to Hillside. Kira looks at him curiously, "Is class the mysterious reason you always fall asleep on Pack night lately?”

Stiles grins sheepishly at her, "Yeah, it’s kind of exhausting.”

“What kind of class are you taking? Art? Yoga? It’s yoga isn’t it. I’ve always wondered why you were so much more flexible than the werewolves.”

Stiles splutters, "What do you mean more flexible?”

Kira shrugs nonchalantly and pulls out her phone when it dings with a message from Scott.

“Remember that time we played Twister and it was only you and Erica left? You basically did a split on the mat to block Erica’s way. And you did it without even breaking a sweat. I swear Derek’s face was the reddest I’ve ever seen. It was hilarious.”

Stiles looks confused but amused and Kira smirks. He doesn’t even know about Derek’s massive crush on him. And it’s painfully obvious. She changes the subject back to Stiles’ mysterious class.

“Come on, tell me what class it is. I’m pretty sure it’s yoga though."

 

It’s Stiles’ turn to smirk and he doesn’t respond to her persistent attempts to find out. Kira’s resolved to poking his face when they pull up to a Burger King in Hillside. She drops the subject and they talk about the likelihood of celebrity werewolves over their meal. 

They pile back into the Jeep and drive over to the school. Kira leans forward to read the sign. Her eyebrows rise higher with each word she reads.

“The Hillside Academy for Dance? You go for dance classes?”

Stiles is already grabbing his stuff and opening Kira’s door for her. He smiles at her as she mumbles her thanks, still trying to find a possible scenario where her clumsy friend has enough coordination to dance.

He leads her to the doors, "Actually, I teach a class.”

Stiles laughs when Kira’s face becomes even more mindblown and she looks at him like she doesn’t know him. “Does Scott know?”

“Yeah. He knows I dance but he doesn’t know I’ve started teaching.”

Entering the school, the duo pass by Amelia, the receptionist, who waves at Stiles shyly before she sees Kira. Suddenly her smile turns to a frown and she eyes them all the way until they turn a corner.

Stiles chuckles nervously, "Um, I’m not sure why-”

Kira laughs and nudges him, "She thinks I’m your girlfriend. She obviously likes you.”

Stiles looks horrified, "Oh hell no! I can’t have people thinking you’re my girlfriend! Scott will kill me!” He actually looks like he might turn back to tell Amelia the truth and Kira grabs his arm and pulls him forward.

“I tell you a girl is interested in you and the you focus on Scott killing you? It’s amazing how your mind works.”

Stiles leads them to his classroom, where the girls are already waiting. He greets them and dumps his stuff, running out to change into his dance pants and a tank top. He gestures for Kira to sit anywhere and gets the girls started on their warm-ups. Once they’re done stretching, he recaps the steps from the last lesson and has the girls show him their performance so far.

Kira watches everything that goes on, and is amazed at Stiles’ natural teaching ability. He works so well with the girls and what little she’s seen him dance so far makes her reevaluate everything she’s ever known about him. She comes to the realisation that she’s probably the first one of Stiles’ friends he trusts enough to reveal his secret and it makes affection bloom in her, that she’s not just his best friend’s girlfriend, but also a close friend. She decides then that the feeling is very much mutual. She turns back to the lesson.

Stiles brings the girls into a huddle and he crouches down to get on their level. “Alright, we have 3 lessons a week, so that’s four and a half hours a week. Multiply that by 4 weeks, we have only 18 hours to practice and rehearse. So far we’ve only got the first four seconds of your 1 minute done.”

The girls start chittering nervously. Stiles holds his hands up.

“Easy, girls. I know that for the first four seconds we’ve got a lot of choreography already. But that was because we didn’t have enough time last lesson, with introductions and all. It will be pretty intensive if you want to get this done at least a week before your talent show. So I need you guys to promise me you’ll work hard alright?”

The girls chorus an enthusiastic ‘YES’ and they get down to business. Stiles demonstrates the steps according to the music, gets suggestions and approval from the girls before he teaches them the steps. The girls have good input and he’s glad they’re contributing to the choreography so that at least it’s partially theirs. He demonstrates the steps slowly and they copy him. he calls out corrections and praise, increasing the pace that they practice the moves until the girls have got it to the time of the music.

“Okay, from the top everyone! Do you want me to dance along or you wanna try yourselves? Remember, you’ll have to dance without me there. So it’s best you guys be independent early.”

The girls are determined, and they request Stiles sit out for now. He starts the music and counts down for them.

Surprisingly, there’s not much of a mess. The girls have the whole first 10 seconds down and apart from a few lapses in timing, the dance looks pretty good. He grins when they finish dancing and gives everyone- including a pleased Cheryl- enthusiastic and proud high-fives. Kira whistles and applauds, giving Stiles two thumbs-up. Stiles grins because now they have half an hour left and he can teach them more, putting them ahead of schedule.

“Okay, this bit is slightly complicated, not much leg movement, but a lot of arm movement. So once you’re done with the kick out, bring your arm down like so, to the left, both arms do a scissors thing, bring your arms down, this bit bend your knees, Here, watch. Yep, just like how Sara is doing it. Good, ok now follow through, cross your arms, turn them in, still clasped! Yes, good job, Cheryl. Up, up over the head, bring your legs together, give yourself some womanly grace girls, jut that knee out. And end position, push those arms out and to the side. Okay, you girls got that? Let’s start from the kick, 5-6-7-8-”

…

Kira waits for Stiles at the waiting area near reception and ignores the glare directed at her by Amelia. Stiles comes out in fresh clothes, towel hanging around his neck. He says goodbye to Amelia, who blushes and smiles shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. Stiles flushes as he remembers she likes him and quickly ushers Kira out the door.

“C’mon, c’mon we have to go to Derek’s. Stop laughing Kira! Just get in the Jeep.”

“Awww, come on Stiles, I’m just teasing,” Kira says as they drive back to Beacon Hills, “You don’t like her do you?”

Stiles scrubs a hand through his hair and smiles sheepishly, “No, I mean she’s nice but I’m not interested.”

After a while, they finally pull up to Derek’s apartment. Stiles parks the Jeep and they trudge into the lobby and ride the elevator up. Derek purchased his apartment in the nicer side of Beacon Hills. It was a relatively new building, and served as a much better home than the ruins of the Hale house. It had two bedrooms, working bathrooms, electricity- you know, all the things normal people have. Stiles supposes it’s because Derek finally realised he was now an adult… and maybe because Derek was now responsible for Isaac’s well-being.

Stiles and Kira get off the elevator and they can already hear the noise of pack behind the door of apartment 5D. Kira knocks loudly on the door as Stiles slumps against the wall.

“NOT ME!”

“IT’S NEVER YOU ERICA!”

“SCOTT! GET THE DOOR!”

“NO! IT’S DEREK’S DOOR, MAKE HIM GET IT!”

The two amused friends hear a series of slaps and thuds before Derek opens the door to let them in. He smiles at Kira, who has always been one of Derek’s favourites, and he raises an eyebrow at Stiles who seems to have fallen asleep against the wall. Kira smacks Stiles’ arm and he jolts awake, rubbing his knuckle into his eye. Derek rolls his eyes fondly. When they walk into the living room, Scott is lying flat on the floor rubbing his head where Derek slapped him and Erica is pouting in Boyd’s lap. Isaac and Allison are curled up on the other couch, giggling in amusement. Lydia sits on one of the armchairs, a cup of tea in her hand as she talks to Boyd about something from school.

Scott sees Kira and bounds up to hug and kiss her, giving Stiles a huge grin and pulling the two of them to the couch. Derek slinks over to his armchair, which nobody else is allowed to sit in. Scott and Kira squish into a half of Allison and Isaac’s couch while Stiles makes his way to Lydia, scoops her up easily without spilling her tea and settles both of them comfortably into the armchair, Lydia not breaking her conversation with Boyd at all. The pack make themselves comfy and start chatting about their week.

“Today I had to perform surgery on Mr Winkles and it was so cool- and so gross- but mostly cool. Deaton actually let me handle this one myself! He just stood there and told me what to do. It was awesome. But Mr Winkles was in pain afterwards so I had to leach some of it off.”

“You’re way too soft, Scott. You can’t keep leaching the pain off or it’ll lower their tolerance.”

“Allison and I went to see the new Jurassic movie. It was pretty good. The effects were great. Hey Derek, dinosaurs don’t still exist do they?”

All heads turn to Derek, who blinks awkwardly and gives a cautious, "No?”

Scott bursts out, ‘Wait wait wait, is that a question? Dude, don’t tell me dinosaurs still exist.”

An awkward silence fills the room, everyone expecting Stiles to point out the many varied flaws of this discussion. They all turn to realise he has fallen asleep in the armchair, face buried into Lydia’s shoulder. Kira snorts at Stiles, “He really tired himself out.”

The Pack turn to her questioningly, “Why, what’d he do? He’s been turning up like this the last couple of meetings,” Scott asks.

**  
**Kira shrugs, avoiding answering the question. The Pack eye Stiles and Kira suspiciously and Kira quickly brings up the new promotion Burger King has on their Whoppers. It’s Stiles’ secret, not Kira’s and she’ll wait for him to tell the Pack. She notices that despite the conversation moving on, Derek is still staring concernedly at Stiles. She smiles to herself and snuggles into Scott. These next few weeks are going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! The amount of positive comments is amazing! Thank you for reading the story and I'm glad you guys enjoyed it!! I'm so sorry for being MIA since the last posting. I've had to adjust a lot lately, and I've just finished the 2 most stressful weeks ever. Ugh. And to top it off, I lost all the background and storylines I had for this fic. So whatever you're seeing here is not what I originally planned. I might come back and edit later, but I'm pretty happy with this chapter. I freaking love Kira & Stiles friendship trope. In the meantime, read my one-shot That's A Promise for sterek goodness, pack-feels and awesome Stiles. I also have a superhero au in the making hohoho but I'm not posting it yet (((((; take care and leave comments, lovely readers!!


	4. Derek Fucks Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is missing and Derek panics a little. (more like 'goes batshit crazy'.)

Derek is getting just a little worried. Just a little. Maybe a lot. Who is he kidding- he’s been staring at the same damn line of the book he’s reading for the past half an hour. He sets the book down and listens for any revving and clunking, for the ruffles of too many shirts, for the pebbles in the parking lot rolling as Stiles trips over the loose stone in the ground. Derek listens for any indication that Stiles is coming, but nothing. He contemplates the phone by his side, biting his lip. A year ago, he wouldn’t have cared about Stiles’ well-being, but now all he feels is the blanket of worry that Stiles has gotten into an accident, or hunters have got him, or he’s been run over by a truck. He looks for Stiles’ contact, _MY SUN AND MOON_ coined by Erica. He huffs- he didn’t bother changing the name, given it was kind of true.

After his calls go to voicemail for the fifth time, he’s reasonably (who is he kidding?) panicky. He scrolls through his contacts to find _SCOTT IS A REALLY AWESOME ALPHA_ and hits ‘call’.

“Yo Derek, what’s up?”

“It’s Thursday.”

“...So?”

“Where’s Stiles.”

“Stiles? Isn’t he at your place?”

“No. I’ve tried calling him five times, he’s not picking up.”

“Shit, okay, it’s cool. It’s cool. I’m pretty sure nothing bad ha-”

“I’m calling everyone. Don’t do anything stupid Scott.”

“Hey! I’m the Alpha, aren’t you supposed to respect me?”

Derek hangs up and calls _BLONDE BOMBSHELL_.

“Erica, is Stiles with you?”

“Nope, I’m with Boyd, Isaac and Allison. Aren’t the two of you supposed to be at your place fuc-”

“Erica. He’s not with me or with Scott.”

“...Shit.”

“I’m calling Lydia.”

Derek gets up from the couch, getting his jacket and keys and storms out the door. He places the phone between his shoulder and ear as he locks the door and heads to the elevator.

“What.”

“Stiles is missing.”

“...STILES IS _MISSING_?”

Derek hears a struggle over the phone and Kira’s voice sounds through.

“What do you mean Stiles is missing?!”

“He comes over every Thursday. The rest of the Pack haven’t seen him and he’s not picking up.”

“Derek, Lydia says his GPS signal is in Hillside. Oh wait, no Derek don’t-”

Derek hangs up and speeds off in the Camaro. He can’t remember there ever being anything supernatural in Hillside. His phone is blowing up with texts and calls from Kira, but he ignores them, driving as fast as possible to Hillside. He winds down the window as he reaches Hillside, slowing down so he can sniff out Stiles. He catches a whiff on the breeze and follows.Hillside is a small town, and Derek knows Stiles’ scent as well as he knows his own name, so he tracks Stiles down easily enough. He doesn’t even pause to look at the building before he’s charging inside.

Once past the doors, he halts in surprise, stumbling over his own feet. Derek has no idea what’s going on. There are small girls walking around the reception area, and parents are staring at him like he’s a nutjob, and Stiles. Stiles.

Stiles is surrounded by at least five girls and he’s talking and gesticulating wildly. He’s sweaty and wearing a white tank top, and good lord, Derek never knew Stiles had muscle. He’s wearing grey baggy sweatpants and his face is flushed, tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth while he listens intently to what the girl in front of him is saying. Derek’s eyes trail the droplet of sweat falling down his neck and into his collarbone. Derek wants to _lick_.

He’s broken out of his thoughts by an irate “Excuse me sir, is there anything I can help you with?”

The receptionist, ‘Amelia’ her badge says, is glaring at him in annoyance. She eyes his leather jacket suspiciously and she’s got a hand on her phone, seemingly ready to call the police. Children and parents alike give him a wide berth.Though a few women are eyeing him appreciatively.

Derek doesn’t answer, and it looks like Amelia is about to call the police when Stiles spots him and calls out, “Derek?”

Derek turns to face Stiles, who’s giving him a confused smile. Stiles walks over and Derek gulps as he drinks in the sight.

“What are you doing here? Oh, it’s fine, Amelia, he’s with me.”

Amelia looks between the two men before she realises something and stammers out an apology, scampering away red-faced and smelling of guilt and slight arousal. Derek doesn’t want to know.

Stiles is still looking at Derek for an answer.

Derek clears his throat and his voice is strained, “You weren’t at the apartment today. And you didn’t pick up. Nobody knew where you were.”

Stiles looks stricken and he closes in on Derek, getting into his space. He cups Derek’s face and starts blabbering apologies, “Oh my god, I’m so fucking sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. There was class and I know I usually go over to the apartment after school and- fuck- I’m so stupid I didn’t even tell anyone. I could’ve been dead for all you know. Fuck I’m so sorry Derek, are you okay? Please be okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m okay I-I’m here I’m sor-”

Derek is staring into Stiles’ eyes and has his fingers wrapped lightly around Stiles’ wrists. Both of them are silent, staring at each other, and Derek can swear Stiles was leaning in-

Someone coughs and they spring apart. Mari is smirking at them and inspecting Derek. Stiles is blushing heavily and refusing to look at Derek.

“So Stiles, who’s this?”

Stiles squeaks and his arms fly all over the place, nearly whacking Derek in the head, “Mari, this is Derek. He’s visiting me.”

Mari’s eyes go wide, “Wait, Derek Hale?”

“Um, yes?”

“Stiles… can I talk to you a second?”

She doesn’t wait for his answer, pulling Stiles aside and away from Derek. They have a furiously whispered conversation. Derek doesn't eavesdrop. Nope. Not at all.

_“Stiles! That’s Derek Hale! He was arrested for **murder.** By YOUR FATHER. Damn it, why is he here? Why are you friends with him? Oh my god, we’re all going to die!”_

__

_“Hey, easy Mari. He’s innocent. He didn’t kill the girl. He’s a good guy okay? And it’s been two years now Mari, he’s a proper civilian now and he has an apartment, a job and running water, like any other normal person. Sure, he still looks like a serial killer and that glare isn’t doing anything to help, but he’s a good person. Just last week he saved a bunch of abandoned puppies, I’m not even kidding. He’s kind and loyal and amazing and has a heart of gold and-”_

__

_“Okay, okay, ew I don’t need to know about your sex life.”_

__

_“WHAT?!”_

__

_“What? Isn’t he your boyfriend? God, I almost suffocated from the bedroom eyes you were giving each other.”_

__

_“No, um. He’s not my boyfriend.”_

__

_“...But you want him to be! AWWWWW.”_

__

_“Shut up Mari, oh my god.”_

The two of them walk back into Derek’s line of sight and he pretends he didn’t hear a single thing they said. Stiles meets Derek’s eyes and flushes even redder, and he gives Derek a sheepish grin, running a hand through his hair and letting it rest on the back of his neck. Safe to say, Derek falls for Stiles even harder. Mari rolls her eyes at the two of them and ushers them out of the school.

“So, um, I dance? Surprise?”

Derek chuckles and smiles at Stiles fondly, “Really? How long have you been dancing?”

“Since I was a kid. I’m teaching a class of 11-year-olds at the moment. They’re preparing for their middle school talent show and I’m helping them with choreo. Can you believe that boys these days are still being sexist little idiots and telling girls they’re not good enough? That’s the reason the girls are here. They didn’t want me as their teacher at first, but I think they’ve realised I respect girls a whole lot more than those boys. In fact, I might just go to their talent show and give those boys a piece of my mind. I was thinking maybe bring Lydia, Allison, Erica and Kira along. Oh and-”

“Stiles.”

“Right, blabbering, sorry.”

They’ve reached the Jeep, Derek having walked Stiles all the way. Stiles smiles at Derek and suddenly lunges at him.

Derek finds himself surrounded by Stiles’ scent as they hug. He inhales as deeply as he can without being too obvious. Stiles has worked his way under Derek’s skin, and Derek can no longer be bothered to fight his lov- lik- _thing_ for Stiles. He pulls Stiles closer, needing Stiles to understand, to know.

Stiles doesn’t get it. He mumbles into Derek’s ear, “I’m sorry I made you so worried. I just… I haven’t told anyone other than Scott that I dance, because they’ll make fun of me. And so far only you and Kira know that I’m teaching here and dancing again. It was stupid trying to hide it. And I’m sorry for freaking you out. Forgive me?”

They pull apart and Derek simply nods. Stiles gives him a soft, private smile and Derek is a complete goner, which is why he doesn’t think twice about leaning in and kissing Stiles softly on the cheek.

 **  
** Derek realises what he’s done and stiffens. Stiles freezes beneath him and looks at Derek with wide eyes. Shit, he fucked up. He fucked up so bad. Derek scowls at his own stupidity, growls out a ‘sorry’, and walks briskly to the Camaro. He zooms off, looking at Stiles’ form in the rearview mirror. Stiles is staring dumbly at the ground, fingers touching his cheek where Derek kissed him. Derek curses himself and starts planning how he’s going to avoid Stiles the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today, the laze is real. Jurassic World is amazing, I love Chris Pratt. It's so hard to write how I imagine Derek's character here, he's super OOC and ugh. Suggestions and constructive critique is very much welcomed. Thank you for reading, I hope you don't have to wake up early tomorrow morning (((((((:


	5. ANGST AHEAD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles angsts and it's beautiful.

“Stiles. Stiles. _Stiles_. STILES. **_STILINSKI_**.” Kira snaps her fingers in front of Stiles’ eyes, but she’s not getting any reaction. She’s worried about him, he hasn’t spoken the whole day. And this is _Stiles_ she’s talking about. She can sense the tension in the room, in the school. Everyone has noticed the lack of mindless chatter, and they’re starting to realise it’s because Stiles Stilinski. Isn’t. Talking.

“Ms Yukimura, could you take Mr Stilinski to the nurse's office please?” their physics teacher says hesitantly. The rest of the class is staring at Stiles, who’s been staring intensely at his hands, which are clasped together on the tabletop.

“Yeah, sure.” Kira replies absently. Stiles hadn’t taken anything out of his bag, in fact, he’d simply followed her to chemistry this morning, before doing the same for physics. She shouldered her own bag since the lesson was almost over, then grabbed Stiles’ bag before waving at him. The class was still watching, and she could see Lydia and Boyd looking over in concern. She cast a questioning look at Boyd, who imperceptibly shook his head. Nothing supernatural then.

Stiles looked up at her and she guided him out of the class and away from inquisitive stares. He finally spoke, his voice coming out crackly, “Where are we going?”

“Ms Muller said to take you to the nurse's office. Nothing… _weird_ is going on right?”

Stiles shook his head. “No, no, nothing supernatural. I’m fine. Just… could you take me to the studio?”

Kira doesn’t know what to make of his request, but she trusts she will find out in time, so she sweeps the hallways before deeming it safe to escape the school. She leads Stiles into an empty classroom with windows facing the parking lot. There’s no one around, so she cracks open the window and slips out, beckoning Stiles to do the same. They scamper over to the Jeep, and when Stiles heads for the driver’s side door, Kira redirects him to the passenger side. He looks like he’s about to protest, but Kira quickly cuts him off.

“You’re really out of it right now, so there’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive there. Relax, I’ve got her.”

…

When they arrive at the studio, Stiles doesn’t wait for Kira, he gets out of the jeep and all but runs into the studio. Kira trails after him, answering worried texts from the Pack.

**_Scott_ **

_Are you guys ok? What’s up with Stiles? Where are you?_

__

**_Lydia_ **

_You’re both in Hillside, why are you there? I will find out eventually Kira._

__

**_Erica_ **

_You and Stiles aren’t cheating on Scott and Derek are you_

__

**_Erica_ **

_Not that Stiles and Derek are dating_

__

**_Boyd_ **

_Ignore Erica, she’s just hungry._

__

**_Isaac_ **

_What’s going on?_

__

**_Allison_ **

_Kiraaaaaaaaaaaa_

Kira sends a general ‘it’s fine’ message to the Pack, and texting Erica specifically to let her know she and Stiles are just friends and no she wouldn’t do that because she’s with _Scott, dammit_ Erica.

Kira walks into the building and looks for Stiles, finding him pacing agitatedly in one of the empty studios in the more secluded area of the building. She goes in and walks to the stereo, seating herself down next to it. After a bit, Stiles finally stops pacing and digs around in his pockets. He curses. Kira wordlessly offers him her phone, already open to Youtube. He gives her a grateful nod and a weak smile and plugs her phone into the stereo system. He messes around a little before he hits play.

She recognises the song, ‘Fall’ by Justin Bieber and she sits back to watch Stiles dance his troubles away. Stiles doesn’t bother preparing much, just takes off his over-shirt and removes his belt from his worn jeans. He looks at Kira and taps his ear. He wants her to listen to the song.

_Well let me tell you a story_

_About a girl and a boy_

_He fell in love with his best friend_

_When she's around, he feels nothing but joy_

 

Stiles doesn’t start dancing just yet. He only moves around, shaking out his limbs. The song goes on.

_But she was already broken, and it made her blind_

_But she could never believe that love would ever treat her right_

_But did you know that I loved you or were you not aware?_

_You're the smile on my face_

_And I ain't going nowhere_

_I'm here to make you happy, I'm here to see you smile_

_I've been wanting to tell you this for a long while_

Kira realises Stiles is, for lack of a better word- _lovesick_. The question now is, over whom?

_What's gonna make you fall in love_

_I know you got your wall wrapped all the way around your heart_

_Don't have to be scared at all, oh my love_

_But you can't fly unless you let yourself,_

_You can't fly unless you let yourself fall_

__

Stiles pauses in one spot, his hands still fluttering about, like he wants to move but doesn’t know how. On the word ‘fall’, he doubles over, one hand touching his hip, the other hanging loosely outwards for minimal balance.

_Well I can tell you're afraid of what this might do_

_'Cause we got such an amazing friendship and that you don't wanna lose_

He brings his right knee in and out, before bringing himself upright and covering his face with his hands. He takes a deep, shaky breath. Kira fears he might actually be having a panic attack but he continues dancing, and she relaxes again.

_Well I don't wanna lose it either_

_I don't think I can stand sitting around while you're hurting babe_

_So take my hand_

He flows into the movement, kicking out, stretching his arm, collecting it back, body waving and bringing the movement to the tip of his foot as he throws the struggle he’s feeling into the downward movement. Stiles twirls, elbows making sharp edges, body waving again as he grabs at his chest. He punches his palm, rolling his shoulders. Taking a series of rhythmic steps, he gracefully moves, soft and flowing, circling his knee with his hand, then bringing a leg back and pivoting on his heels until he’s facing the front again. He stretches his hand out, clenching it, mimicking holding someone’s hand.

_Well did you know you're an angel who forgot how to fly?_

_Did you know that it breaks my heart every time to see you cry_

__

Stiles takes a few stumbling steps back, face determined. He does some footwork while simultaneously bringing his hands up and around his neck, then dragging down his face. A few more steps, then he’s holding a clenched fist to his heart and pounding it into his chest, like that’s the only way to show how strongly and deeply he cares for this person. He rocks back onto his heels, straightening his legs, then back forward, hands next to his face and tracing lightly downwards, palms facing the front, mimicking crying.

_'Cause I know that a piece of you's gone,_

_Every time he done wrong I'm the shoulder you're crying on_

_And I hope by the time that I'm done with this song that I figure out_

Stiles dances, moving around the room, feet working complicated steps that would normally have tripped him by now if he was going about his normal business. His arms are strong and focused, and his body swirls like he’s only letting a tiny portion of his power out, keeping the rest flowing throughout his movements, softening the harsh edge he possesses. Kira is mesmerised, eyes tracing his every move. She’s never seen him dance like this, and it’s such a privilege that she can see his raw emotions right now, such an honour that he trusts her enough to bear his soul where she can see.

_What's gonna make you fall in love_

_I know you got your wall wrapped all the way around your heart_

Stiles lowers to the ground, getting on his knees and looking like he’s in so much pain that Kira is getting angry at this person who’s made Stiles like this. What the hell? What coulld this person possibly have done to make Stiles love and care and hurt so much? Stiles continues dancing, bringing himself up again, dragging a hand painfully across his neck, around his head, down his chest diagonally, ending with his both hands, both sets of fingers splayed out and heels of the palms touching his chest, making a crude circle- a wall, around his heart.

_You don't have to be scared at all, oh my love_

_But you can't fly unless you let yourself,_

_You can't fly unless you let yourself fall_

Stiles is jumping around, thrusting out his hands, shaking his head, Kira can almost see the blasts of energy he’s letting loose with each hard movement, grabbing fistfuls of air and tensing his muscles. Relaxing every time, he looks like he’s finally dispelling all his heartache.

_I will catch you if you fall_

_I will catch you if you fall_

_I will catch you if you fall_

He tenses his arms, clenches his fists, reaching down and grabbing hold of an imaginary hand. He pulls up, and it makes Kira want to cry because the look on Stiles’ face is one of such utter despair and sorrow. He does it again with the other hand, and then both hands go down to scrabble at the floor, looking for hands to hold.

_But if you spread your wings_

_You can fly away with me_

Stiles strains as he extends his arms in an imitation of wings, it looks like he’s struggling so much, like he’s in the worst kind of pain, and Kira really is crying now, because she can’t stand to see Stiles this way. But then Stiles relaxes, bending low and fluttering his arms around like he’s taking off.

_But you can't fly unless you let your_

_You can't fly unless you let yourself_

He takes two large steps back, turning around, eyes closed and completely relaxed.

_fall_

He rises up on the balls of his feet, head thrown back and arms slightly extended to the side. He looks peaceful and Kira smiles as she wipes away her stray tears. She sniffs, and Stiles’ eyes flutter open to look at her.

“That was beautiful Stiles. Now, tell me who made you feel this way so I can stab them with my katana.”

Stiles flails, all grace he had as a dancer evaporating. He nearly trips over his own feet on his way to her and she bursts out laughing.

“What?! Nonono, bad idea. I actually _like_ Derek and Derek _probably_ likes me back but I’m so confused because he kissed my cheek then said sorry? Like,  _who does that_? An-”

“Wait hold up. You’re angsting over _Derek_?!”

  
“...I have so much shit to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FUCKING LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER HOLY SHIT THIS WAS AMAZING I. It made me feel so inspired and I felt everything I wrote so deeply, my god. I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing which is 4567% A LOT. I love writing Stiles dancing so much. Thank you for reading!! The dance for this chapter is choreographed and performed by Ian Eastwood. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fh0uXsw-2-A


	6. Walking Around With Just One Shoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One Direction help Sterek get together. Sigh, they're such idiots.

Stiles told Kira what happened the day before, when Derek kissed him, apologised and ran away. Kira nods her head contemplatively. Stiles is full on ranting about Derek’s stupidity now.

“-how could he not know that I like him? Is he doing this to fuck with me? What does the kiss mean? Who does that and then leaves the person they kissed behind? He’s so stupid how does he not realise that maybe I want him too? Oh my god, do you think he doesn’t know I’m bisexual? IS THAT WHY HE THINKS I WON’T LIKE HIM BACK. Oh my god what if it’s because of the age differen- ARmphhh?”

Kira slaps her hand across Stiles’ mouth, cutting off his downward spiral into useless worrying. She huffs and tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear. She shrieks and whips her hand away when she feels something wet.

“STILES THAT IS DISGUSTING.”

“Sorry, reflex. Everyone keeps doing it now, so…”

“Okay, I won’t do it again. Yucks. I can’t believe you willingly lick people. You don’t know where my hand has been, it’s unhygienic.”

“Here”, he offers her his towel and she wipes his saliva off her hand, “Well, you don’t know where my tongue’s been.”

“...”

“Yeah, let’s not talk about where my tongue has definitely not been.”

Kira laughs loudly and Stiles grins at her.

“Okay, okay,” she sobers up, “I’m pretty sure Derek does like you. In fact, you’re the only one who doesn’t realise.”

“What? But he’s never done anything to show me he likes me!”

“Well, he does go over to your house to have dinner with you and your dad every Sunday. And during movie nights he always heads straight to you and cuddles you. Isaac doesn’t like it when we tease Derek, so we don’t say anything. The whole Pack has pictures of the two of you cuddled up together. Oh and what do you guys do every Thursday anyway? Isaac says that Derek isn’t home Thursday nights. Um, Stiles..?”

Stiles blushes bright red, “Um, I go to Derek’s on Thursdays because Dad isn’t home til Friday afternoons. I do homework and then we head to my house to play video games.”

Kira nods encouragingly.

“And you know I hate being alone in the house.”

Kira nods are continuous now.

“... _Derekstaysoverandsleepswithmeinmybed_.”

Kira freezes, mouth dropping into an ‘O’ in surprise. She smirks at Stiles, a bit red herself. Stiles becomes impossibly redder. Silence.

“Well, you know what you need to do now?”

Stiles looks confused and Kira grins evilly.

“You should dance for him.”

…

 

Derek is at home, curled up in his favourite armchair in what Isaac and Laura call his ‘moping sweater’. He’s squished himself into the armchair, legs up and curled around a pillow. Isaac had seen him in his ‘moping sweater’ this morning, snorted and left the house to go to school. Derek has been moping for almost close to a week. It was a Thursday, Stiles should have been over today, but Derek was certain he wasn’t coming. Derek had put on the Harry Potter series, letting it play without really watching. Shut up, Harry Potter was his soul-food.

The doorbell rings, breaking Derek out of his moping. He grumbles as he gets up, sweater sleeves pulled over his fists, socked feet padding towards the door. He didn’t care he was wearing sweatpants, had bed-head and looked like crap, he was moping and the stupid idiot at the door could go fuck himself. Derek opened the door…

… and found Stiles staring back at him. _Nope, don’t fuck yourself, let me do it for you_ , Derek thought, and then mentally slapped himself. Derek was surprised. Stiles was supposed to be avoiding him, he’d been doing that the better part of a week, Stiles didn’t even come to Pack night on Monday. What was he doing here? Stiles was staring at Derek, his lips parted.

“Derek…”

Derek coughed awkwardly, looked like his plans to avoid Stiles wouldn’t work anymore.

Stiles shook his head, then tipped it towards the apartment, “You gonna let me in?”

Derek stepped aside and held the door open for Stiles, Stiles smiled at him and headed to the living room, Derek closed the door and trailed behind him. Stiles stopped suddenly, and Derek bumped into him. Stiles was looking at the evidence of Derek’s moping and he whistled lowly, “Wow, Isaac wasn’t kidding.”

Derek growled and he shouldered past Stiles to go back to his chair, “Look, if you’re here to rub it in that these… feelings aren’t returned, I got the memo. So you can just leave now and forget it ever happened.”

Stiles bristles, “What? Why would I want to forget? And shut up Derek you don’t know what I came here to do.”

Derek looks up, puzzled, “Then... W-what are you here for?”

Stiles makes an exasperated noise, before dumping his stuff on the couch and moving furniture around until he’s created a large space in the middle of the apartment. Derek raises his eyebrows and Stiles silences him with a glare. Derek shrinks into the armchair. Stiles softens and smiles softly at Derek, and Derek gives him a small confused smile.

“I’m here to tell you something, you asshole.” Stiles says fondly.

Stiles plugs in his phone to Derek’s stereo system. Guitar chords sound through. Derek listens, snorting, “Is this One Direction?”

“Shut up and listen, Hale.”

Derek listens.

_So your friend's been telling me_

_You've been sleeping with my sweater_

_And that you can't stop missing me_

_Bet my friend's been telling you_

_I'm not doing much better_

_'Cause I'm missing half of me_

_And being here without you is like I'm waking up to_

_Only half a blue sky_

_Kinda there but not quite_

_I'm walking around with just one shoe_

_I'm half a heart without you_

_I'm half a man at best,_

_With half an arrow in my chest_

_I miss everything we do,_

_I'm half a heart without you_

Stiles watches him while Derek listens to the lyrics. Derek is smiling widely, and Stiles’ breath catches in his chest. Derek has his eyes on Stiles, and starts getting up to come talk to him, but Stiles isn’t done yet. He shakes his head and Derek sits back down, realisation dawning. _Holy shit_ , he thought, _Stiles is going to dance for me_.

_Forget all we said that night_

_No, it doesn't even matter_

_'Cause we both got split in two_

Stiles draws patterns around his head, bending low and then backing up, holding his hands out and dragging his shoe along the floor. He’s smiling contentedly at Derek. Then he stabilises himself on two legs, shoulder-width apart and draws his finger down his chest, an imaginary line splitting himself in two.

_If you could spare an hour or so,_

_We'll go for lunch down by the river_

_We can really talk it through_

He body waves downwards, bending his knees and letting out a puff of breath. He gets on his knees, pivoting on one and drawing a large circle around him with the other leg stretched out. He gets his hands out, on the floor, swinging his body around until his legs are in front of him again. Then he lays down on his back, one knee crossed over the other, his hands behind his head. Derek watches Stiles’ eyes flutter close.

_And being here without you is like I'm waking up to_

__

Stiles swings his legs around, rolling onto his front, then smoothly pushing himself to his feet. Knees bent and body doubled over, he pulls his hands from the floor, up his body, around his neck and then stretches them out above his head, fists clenched. He twirls on one leg, halting suddenly when he’s facing Derek again. His head is tilted up, exposing his long neck. Stiles’ arms are still extended, rising up on the balls of his feet, then collapsing quickly back onto the soles.

_Only half a blue sky_

_Kinda there but not quite_

_I'm walking around with just one shoe_

_I'm half a heart without you_

Stiles raises a hand above his head, sweeping it in an imitation of the sky. He drags a leg behind the other in the direction of his sweeping hand. He turns around, back facing Derek, arms outstretched. Stiles turns to face Derek again, scrunching up half his face and giving a ‘so-so’ gesture with his right hand. Derek grins. Stiles makes a few aborted steps, then traces his left leg in a circle, rests his leg on his left leg, turning and holding on to his right shoe, knee brought up to his chest and grinning at Derek. He hops on one foot, not letting go of the other, and Derek laughs. Stiles pats his chest twice with his free hand, tilting his head to the side and looking up at Derek through his lashes and the strands of his hair that have fallen into his face. He makes a ‘get it?’ face, one eyebrow raised, and Derek is completely charmed by the man Stiles is becoming. Stiles pulls his foot back, pivoting on his one leg. Then lands on both his feet, he steps backwards, and gestures at Derek with his left hand, his right placed over his heart. Derek will never admit he swoons at the look Stiles is giving him.

_I'm half a man at best,_

_With half an arrow in my chest_

Stiles steps forward, closer to Derek, he mimics lifting weights onto his shoulders, then gets down on one knee. Derek sucks in a sharp breath. Stiles brings his left arm forward, then his right and he paints a picture of an archer. He whips his head backwards, pulling his entire body up with the motion, keeping his arms in the archer’s position. He brings his stomach in, curving his shoulders and falling forwards.

_'Cause I miss everything we do,_

__

He stands upright, counting on his fingers as he smirks at Derek, breathing in deep and slow.

_I'm half a heart without you_

He taps his temple, smiling charmingly at Derek, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing at Derek with both his hands. He swaggers over to Derek, beckoning him to come with Stiles. He extends both hands out, offering them to Derek. Derek can’t dance, and Stiles should know this, but Derek takes Stiles hands anyway. Stiles pulls them to the empty space, pulls Derek closer to him.

_Half a heart without you,_

_I'm half a heart without you_

He twirls Derek around easily, since Stiles is slightly taller than Derek. He pulls Derek to his chest, their faces just an inch apart, he cups Derek’s jaw, arms resting on his shoulders. They sway to the instrumental. Then he backs away from Derek.

_Though I try to get you out of my head_

_The truth is I got lost without you_

__

He dances for Derek, his eyes never leaving Derek’s.

 

_And since then I've been waking up to_

_Only half a blue sky_

__

He dances around Derek, twirling and Derek turns to follow his movement. He mimes half a sky then twirls around Derek.

_Kinda there but not quite_

_I'm walking around with just one shoe_

They both laugh when Stiles takes off one of his sneakers and throws it at Derek’s feet. Derek is feeling things and he’s not ashamed to admit this is probably the happiest moment of his life, Stiles throwing one half of his pair of sneakers (one half of his heart) at Derek.

_I'm half a heart without you_

_I'm half a man at best,_

Stiles turns to face Derek, getting down on one knee and sitting back on his ankle. He swipes both hands through his messy hair.

_With half an arrow in my chest_

He rests his weight on one knee again, legs forming right-angles as he clenches his fist around an imaginary arrow shaft, sticks it through his heart, mimes pulling it out from his back and standing up fully.

_I miss everything we do,_

Stiles pounds his chest, watching Derek, then pointing at him. Stiles bends over, arms coming to hug the air, then straightening up and bring his hands to his lips. He throws his head backwards and sweeps his arms up and to the side.

_I'm half a heart without you_

_Without you, without you, half a heart without you_

_Without you, without you,_

Stiles dances intensely, circling Derek, he thrusts out his limbs, brings them in, going down to his knees, and up again, twirling and halting and going backwards. He eventually ends up facing Derek again.

_I'm half a heart without you_

He takes both of Derek’s hands, closing in on Derek’s space. He gazes at their entwined hands and brings them to his heart. Derek can feel his heart beating, and he knows that Stiles definitely loves him too.

The music fades off, leaving Stiles and Derek standing closely together, Stiles breathing heavily and their hands clutched together against his chest. Derek’s ears are filled with the steady beating of Stiles’ heart and he pushes closer to Stiles, the better to breathe him in.

“I’m half a heart without you.”

Derek chuckles and noses at Stiles’ cheek, peppering both sides with butterfly kisses. Then he punches Stiles in the shoulder.

 

“OW! What was that for?!”

“You left me here thinking you didn’t feel the same for a _week_ , Stiles.”

Stiles holds up his hands placatingly, “I was choreographing the moves for this. I… I know I tend to talk a lot but I...I’m not good with expressing my feelings through words, Derek. Especially what I feel for you. So… um, yeah.”

Stiles finds his arms full of Derek.

“This is the best thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Silence, then Stiles asks, “Does this mean we’re together now?”

“Mmhmm.”

“...So can I kiss you now? Been waiting a whi- _mpf_!”

They kiss chastely at first, then Stiles parts his lips and Derek’s tongue traces his bottom lip. Derek holds Stiles’ waist, pulling their bodies closer together. Stiles grabs fistfuls of Derek’s hair and breaks the kiss, breathing heavily. Derek trails his kisses down Stiles’ neck, eliciting a soft groan from Stiles.

“Okay, okay, Derek, you gotta hold on, I- _oh_! Fuck, Derek, I-I have homework…”

Derek bites at his collarbone and then pulls away completely. Stiles chases after him.

“Nonono, more kissy, more neck kissy. Screw homework. _Dereeeeeeekkk_.”

“When you finish your homework.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“No I don’t. I’m half a heart without you.”

  
Derek trips over his own feet on his way to the kitchen, and Stiles can see the tips of Derek’s ears burning red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, I hope you guys aren't turned off by the 1D thing. I chose this choreography because it fits really well with what I wanted Stiles to do for Derek. And 'I'm half a heart without you' is the BEST way to show their love without outright saying they're in love. It's a bit early for 'i love you's right now.
> 
> Dance choreographed by Ian Eastwood to Half A Heart by One Direction. I fucking love One Direction by the way, so this is me shamelessly promoting them. #nocontrol 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqYgA53S2Lk


	7. Mission: Find Out What Stiles Is Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pack go on a stealth mission.

“Something’s going on with Stiles,” Erica says nonchalantly at lunch.

“Derek knows,” contributes Isaac.

“So does Kira.” says Lydia.

Scott suddenly sits up and pouts, “That's why you made me send them both to the vending machine?!”

“Shut up Scott, they’ll be back soon. We need to find out what they’re hiding from us. Today.” Lydia declares. “Scott, you said Stiles sent Kira home a few weeks back?”

“Yeah, but they turned up to Pack night together after Kira texted me they were getting lunch.”

“When we thought Stiles was missing, he was actually in Hillside. Kira knew what that meant. She tried to stop Derek from going.”

Isaac chimes in, “And that night, Derek was moping in his room. He was moping for a week. But he wasn’t home yesterday night. I smelled Stiles though, which means he was there recently.”

Allison rounds up the discussion, “I noticed Stiles always has plans after school on Mondays and Thursdays. Stiles was texting someone this morning, I can’t remember her name. But he said he was ‘coming over this afternoon’.”

Lydia smiles at Allison proudly. “Scott, tell Kira you have to go to the vet’s. Ask Stiles to send Kira home.”

Scott looks annoyed, “I’m not going to lie to my girlfriend Lydia. That’s not how this works. Figure out something else.”

Lydia falters at the hint of anger in Scott’s tone. She recovers quickly, making a private note to apologise to Scott later.

“Fine, I’ll tell Kira something came up with you, and Stiles should send her home. Stiles will probably ask her to come along since sending her home means going in the opposite direction of Hillside, and he needs at least half an hour to get there.”

Erica suggests they follow Stiles’ scent 15 minutes after he leaves.

“It won’t be obvious we’re trailing them, and the scent will still be there.”

The rest of the Pack nod, but the werewolves turn to Scott, seeking the Alpha’s approval. Scott shakes his head, “Fine. The only reason I’m allowing this is because I’m curious as well.”

Boyd clears his throat, “They’re coming back.”

The Pack start talking about nonsensical things again, and Lydia surreptitiously touches her Alpha’s arm, a silent apology. Scott shrugs off his annoyance and smiles at her.

…

Kira and Stiles are talking near the Jeep, while they wait for Scott to pick Kira up. Kira’s phone dings with a message from Lydia.

**_Lydia_ **

_Scott got detention. His phone was taken. Tell Stiles to send you home._

“Scott got detention and they took his phone, do you mind sending me home?”

Stiles nods but says, “Or, you could come with me, see how the girls are doing. We could use outsider input.”

Kira agrees and they get into the Jeep, setting off for Hillside.

...

Fifteen minutes later, Scott is leading the others- piled into Lydia’s car- towards Hillside, tracking Stiles’ scent. He revs the engine of his green dirt bike, sniffing at the air. They reach Hillside, and Scott makes a few turns before coming to stop in the parking lot of a building. He takes off his helmet, puts the brake down and stares at the words on the building in confusion. Then, enlightenment takes over his face and he races inside without waiting for the others.

Lydia parks and the remaining Pack file out of the car. They get their bearings, then look up at the words. Even Lydia is confused, “The Hillside Academy for Dance?”

Erica guffaws, “No wonder he didn’t want us to know. Stilinski’s trying to learn how to dance! This is great.”

They’re all amused, chuckling at thoughts of Stiles trying to dance and failing. They enter the building and are greeted with Scott hugging a woman in her twenties, wearing leggings and a tank top. She’s laughing and patting his back.

Scott releases her and turns to the Pack, grinning widely, “Guys this is Mari, Mari, these are my friends, Allison, Lydia, Boyd, Erica and Isaac. We came to see Stiles.”

Mari smiles at them, friendly. “Well, he’s in studio 9. Don’t go in, puppy, I mean it. I _do not_ want to have to deal with angry parents.”

Scott looks confused but thanks her and beckons the Pack.

“What did she mean, ‘angry parents’?”

 

“Scott, how do you know her?”

Scott shrugs, “Stiles introduced me. She’s awesome.”

“Wait you’ve know about this the whole time?”

“No! I’m just as surprised as you are!”

The Pack share exasperated looks- their Alpha is not making any sense. Zip. Nada. None. Scott halts suddenly, “Here it is, Studio 9..?”

The Pack come to a stop at the glass and look in. Erica voices what everyone’s thinking with an apt, “What the fuck?”

…

Stiles is holding a pair of heels in his hands. More accurately, a pair of adult, female, character heels.

“What am I looking at?”

Cheryl and Abby smirk at him, “C’mon, it'll be fun.”

Stiles looks at them and then shrugs. He plops to the floor and shucks his sneakers off. He pulls on the heels, and gets up easily. All the girls are staring at him in surprise. Stiles simply continues teaching. Cheryl pipes up, “How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“That!”

 

She gestures at his feet, “How are you walking in heels?”

“Oh! Um, I had some lady friends who made me do it, so I’m pretty steady.”

Stiles doesn’t clarify that his ‘lady friends’ refer to the drag queens at the Jungle. He doesn’t need parents coming after him. He looks to Kira, who has been recording since he was first offered the heels. He shakes his head, and proceeds with the class.

“Gather round girls!”

They huddle in a circle, Stiles bending down to their level.

“Alright, we have 2 weeks left to rehearsal. We’re 40 seconds into a minute, now we need to wrap up the last 20 seconds, then start figuring out your positioning. Let’s work hard girls!”

 

“YEAH!”

 

Stiles walks over to the front of the room easily despite the heels. He motions for the girls to spread out, then begins the movement.

“From the strong pose, twirl, leg behind, down on the floor, like this. You got that? It’s difficult but keep trying. You’ll get in eventually. Let’s go again, 5-6-7-8. This. Is. Yep that’s good. Laura, keep your knee straight. Evanna, posture. Jeslyn, that bit you did with your head? That’s great, keep that in there. Remember girls, you don’t have to follow me exactly, try to incorporate your own personality into it. Alright, one more time, 5-6-7-8-”

Stiles goes over the movements for the next 10 seconds of the dance. They practice the movements until they’ve all got it, then Stiles claps his hands, “Alright, from the top all the way til here. Let’s go everybody, spread out. That’s good. I’ll start the music in 3. 2. 1.”

Stiles plays the music and walks around the girls, observing their movement. The girls are doing really well, and Stiles knows that some of the moves are particularly difficult for non-experienced dancers, more so 11-year-olds. But it’s coming together nicely and when the girls are done, he applauds them and gives a couple of pointers. He’s about to dismiss the girls when Mina speaks up, “Hey Stiles? Can you show us the full dance? We want to see how it looks once it’s done.”

The others chorused their agreement and Stiles nods. He gestures for everyone to stand to the sides, the heels he’s wearing clacking against the wooden floor as he moves to the center of the room. One of the girls starts the music, and Stiles starts to dance.

…

“Dude. That’s kind of weird.”

The Pack had watched through the one-way glass window as Stiles taught the girls, walking and dancing expertly in a pair of heels. Kira didn’t seemed fazed by it, in fact she just recorded everything with the tip of her tongue sticking out at the side of her mouth.

Erica was confused, “Wait, Stiles is a dance teacher… for kids… girls specifically..?”

“I don’t know anything about dancing, but he’s pretty good. Stiles knows how to dance,” says Allison, nodding her head.

Scott coughs, “He’s been dancing since we were kids. I didn’t realise he took it up again, or that he started teaching.”

Boyd speaks, “Look.”

Everyone focuses back on Stiles as he moves to the center of the room, the girls backing up to the sides. Kira’s phone camera is aimed at Stiles. His back is to the Pack, but there are mirrors in front of him, so the Pack can still see his front. The music starts, werewolves hearing the unmuffled version coming through the walls.

Stiles begins the dance, and the Pack stare bewildered as he does distinctly feminine moves. He holds himself much like a woman would. Though as the music plays on, the Pack stop being weirded out and start being supporting, cheering Stiles on. As Stiles comes to his final position, the Pack applauds up a storm outside the studio.

Parents of the girls are staring at them, disgruntled at the disturbance. The girls inside turn towards the glass panel, but only see reflections of themselves. Stiles raises his eyebrows in question but dismisses the girls. As the girls leave the studio, they cast judgmental looks at the Pack, who ignore them in lieu of trying to get inside the studio.

Stiles and Kira are packing up, about to head out when the Pack bursts in and the duo let out shrill squeaks. They stare at their friends in shock as everybody comes to surround Stiles, the men slapping his back and the women slapping his chest. They’re all rambling and talking over each other and Stiles looks so lost that Scott takes pity on him and quietens everyone down with a soft but commanding growl.

When they’re all quiet, Stiles clears his throat to ask, “H-how are you guys here? How did you know..?”

Erica speaks up, “We followed your scent! We were worried about you, Kira and Derek being so secretive so we set you and Kira up and then followed you here!”

Kira gives Scott an affronted look, “Lydia said you had detention!”

Scott splutters before Lydia cuts in smoothly, “Sorry Kira, don’t blame Scott, he didn’t want to lie to you at all, so I set you up. I apologise.”

Kira turns her look upon Lydia, who looks distinctly uncomfortable. Kira is never mad at anyone, so for her to be mad at Lydia was a new experience. Lydia definitely felt bad now. But then Kira turns to Stiles and cocks her head at him. He shakes his head.

“It’s fine, they were all going to find out anyway, sooner or later.”

Kira accepts that and then smiles at Lydia, forgiving her. “I’m not really upset about you doing that, I was just waiting for Stiles to be okay sharing this.”

“Aww thanks Kira!” Stiles pulls her into a one-armed hug and Scott looks annoyed.

“Dude! When did my girlfriend replace me as your best friend?”

Stiles and Kira roll their eyes and bring Scott into their hug. Everyone piles into a Pack hug, even Boyd. Someone clears their throat at the door, but the teenagers don’t let go, just crane their heads to look. Mari leans against the door, watching them bemusedly.

“Sorry to break up your love-fest but there’s another class in here in 5 minutes.”

The Pack laugh and walk out. Isaac slings an affectionate arm around Stiles’ shoulders, “So what about you and Derek?”

Stiles blushes faintly, but everyone can see it, “What about Derek?”

“Well,” Isaac explains slowly, “Derek’s been moping since he found you last Thursday. Then, yesterday, I smelled you at home, and it was very recent. Derek wasn’t home last night. And this morning he was really happy. Like, _really_ happy. So what’s going on Stiles?”

They’ve all stopped in the parking lot of the school now, waiting for Stiles’ answer expectantly.

Stiles coughs, “Derek and I are… kind of together?”

“What?!” Boyd exclaims, shocking everyone. Boyd is never, _never_ shocked by anything. He’s supposed to be the most zen out of the whole Pack! His outburst makes Stiles nervous.

“Um, yeah, we’re together. Dating. In a relationship. With mutual affection. And-”

Boyd cuts him off, “No, no I was surprised the two of you finally stopped being so stupid and got together.”

“Oh, uh, thanks I guess.”

“You hurt him, I’ll kill you.”

“Psh, please Boyd, what’d you take me for?”

Boyd nods in approval, then returns to his usual stoic silence. Erica, Isaac, Lydia, Allison and even Scott and Kira throw him twenties each. At Stiles’ raised eyebrow, Scott explains, “We bet on who would be the first to threaten either you or Derek once you guys got your shit together.”

Stiles looks mildly offended but then turns to Boyd, “40 percent.”

“20.”

“35.”

“30.”

“Done.”

 **  
**Boyd passes him a twenty, a ten, a five and some coins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehehhehheh I liked writing this chapter, though it was difficult since, wow, so many characters to involve. I'm not sure about how I wrote the Pack dynamics. Ugh, it was difficult since this is so OOC. thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed it!


	8. Apology

FayeDuLarke: are you ever going to continue this? :C i miss it so much

 

I did intend to continue it, now that I feel I'm maturing as a writer. Unfortunately, when writing fanfiction, you need inspiration. Since Tyler Hoechlin left Teen Wolf - no, since Shelley Hennig, bless her - became Stiles' girlfriend in an extremely disturbing way, I have no inspiration to write from. I've decided to focus on another fandom for now instead.

I really am sorry that I can't continue as of right now. I was writing chapters back to back and posting them the moment I was done. Now I see that was a mistake if I ever wanted to finish this story. This story was a huge stepping stone for me in writing fanfiction, and I really do appreciate all the love for it. I didn't want to say anything until I really wanted to abandon it, but I suppose it's rude to keep everyone hanging when they can see me writing another story.

So I guess the answer to your question is: No, not now, but maybe in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment if you'd like, I understand your reasonable ire. I promise to at read and reply to all of them sincerely. Thank you for hanging on this long.

**Author's Note:**

> Dances: I Should Have Kissed You by Chachi Gonzales, Break Free by Yanis Marshall, Fall by Ian Eastwood, Half a Heart by Ian Eastwood


End file.
